


Love, Justice, and Other Things Stiles Didn't Expect During High School

by TheBlackDress



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), Teen Wolf/Sailor Moon Crossover
Genre: Everyone is a magically transforming dude, Multi, Sailor Wolf, Shh just go with it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-02-20
Packaged: 2017-11-29 22:45:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackDress/pseuds/TheBlackDress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back in the days when teachers thought it would be productive to get a bunch of fourth graders to write down what they wanted to be in life, Stiles had never written down “I want to be a magically transforming, tuxedo wearing, defender of love and justice.” </p><p>It hadn’t seemed logical for obvious reasons. </p><p>----</p><p>Or: That Sailor Moon crossover we all have(n't) been waiting for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Justice, and Other Things Stiles Didn't Expect During High School

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this tumblr post](http://saucefactory.tumblr.com/post/39466054607/i-have-no-idea-why-but-i-just-pictured-stiles-in-a) from a little while ago. This was almost a bit too easy to crossover...something you're trying to tell us Teen Wolf writers?!
> 
> More characters and relationships will be added as they are introduced. While some unnamed characters may be kind of obvious, they won't be added until they are unmasked. I like a little suspense.
> 
> This is kind of based off a weird crossover of the anime, manga and live action of Sailor Moon, sooooo it could go anywhere really. Also, while there may eventually be a little prequel documenting Scott and Stiles first transformations and battles, I felt starting here was a good idea. Not sure why, but hey, no one can control their muse right?
> 
> Thanks to the lovely ayuwensayk for betaing for me, you're the best!

Of course, it’s all Scott’s fault.

Back in the days when teachers thought it would be productive to get a bunch of fourth graders to write down what they wanted to be in life, Stiles had never written down “I want to be a magically transforming, tuxedo wearing, defender of love and justice.” It hadn’t seemed logical for obvious reasons. Stiles hadn’t really given a fig for love or justice at the time. Health and life for his mother maybe. Happiness and good news for his father as well.

Justice didn’t really do much for cancer.

But maybe it was all a case of not being able to see far enough into his future, because for the past two months he had been magically transforming into a tuxedo wearing defender of love and justice, and it didn’t seem like something that would ever go away if Deaton was to be believed.

“You are both chosen,” He’d explained solemnly after Stiles had first transformed, “To protect this universe and its people from evil. It is your past, your present, your future. Your destiny.”

Hence why it was all Scott’s fault. Stiles had a theory that if he’d never made friends with the boy all those years ago his destiny would have stayed far away from the white and blue uniform he wore and the water powers he’d suddenly developed. It was a horrible destiny, filled with lying to his father and being unable to study for his classes, and you know, _fighting terrifying monsters that tried to suck the life out of innocent bystanders._ But Deaton still insisted that with or without Scott’s friendship (Which Stiles actually _treasured_ okay, so he didn’t want to give up that friendship to make his life easy again, he just _wondered_ ) Stiles destiny had been decided since the minute he was born.

“Can’t destiny wait until I at least finish high school?” Stiles had asked hopefully after Deaton had finished his first post-transformation speech. The scratch he gave Stiles for asking practically screamed no and left a mark that lasted a week.

Destiny apparently didn’t have a stop button. Not only was Stiles protecting love and justice, he was trying to find more magically transforming dudes and one hidden prince for reasons unknown.

And he was meant to have Scott helping him.

Except…

“She’s perfect Stiles!” Scott sighed, head resting on his forearms as he lay on Stiles bed. “She’s so kind, and brave, running right into our fight to help us out -”

“Help _you_ out maybe,” Stiles answered bitterly, typing a bit harder on his keyboard than he usually would out of frustration. “I was still getting my butt handed to me while I waited for you two to leave your little love bubble.”

“It was like the minute she appeared I knew exactly what to do, you know?” Scott continued, oblivious to his so called best friend and rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

“She’s perfect. Completely and utterly perfect.”

“I still think she could be working for the bad guys,” Stiles pointed out. Scott frowned.

“She wouldn’t be helping us if she worked for the bad guys!” 

“I agree with Stiles,” Deaton spoke up from where he dozed on the open window sill, “We don’t know anything about this Masquerade person yet. She could be dangerous.”

“No, she’s perfect,” Scott insisted, drifting back into Masquerade land. Stiles sighed, trying to train his eyes back onto his monitor. Deaton stretched and jumped to the desk to check the screen.

“Any potentials?” The feline asked, eyes fixed to the slowly scrolling pictures of the student population of Beacon Hills. Stiles sighed, sliding down into his seat and waving a hand lazily at the screen.

“Oh, sure. Heaps of them. Every single person in fact,” He answered sarcastically. “I have no idea what I’m looking for, how should I know who has potential or not?”

“You’re a Guardian, just like they are,” Deaton said sagely, “When you see them, you will know.”

“Yeah well, not right now I won’t. I need a break,” Stiles decided, sliding the last few feet out of his chair and straightening up from the floor. Deaton leapt off the desk and followed him across the room, tail swishing angrily.

“We need to find the other Guardians and the Prince quickly Stiles!” Deaton hissed, using his small body to block the doorway. “You are Sailor Mercury, warrior of intelligence and the water element. You need to tap into that and focus!”

“You know what would help actually me right now? Being as far away as possible from Scott and his fictional romance with a caped crusader,” Stiles said. “Now make like a banana and split before my head does from all this pressure.”

Stepping over the stressing feline, Stiles headed across the hall, down the steps and out the front door. The day was cool enough to need a jacket, which Stiles had of course forgotten in his rush to leave the house. Thankfully the sun warmed him as he walked, following a well trodden path out of his neighbourhood and into the forest. When he did something so ordinary like this, taking a walk on a nice day, Stiles almost couldn’t believe what he’d left behind in his bedroom. It all seemed so far away, a distant dream, until his hand brushed the transformation pen in his jeans pocket and it all came rushing back to harsh reality.

But the pressure to go back to his date with destiny wasn’t able to stop him walking, and Stiles tried to find other things to occupy his mind with. Like how he still hadn’t asked out Lydia Martin. Mostly because he was pretty sure she didn’t know he existed, even though she seemed to know his alter ego well enough. Most of the schools population usually buzzed with talk of Sailor Moon and Sailor Mercury’s latest battles. To them it was all a game, something they could find in a store and take home for kicks. It wasn’t the same when you lived it, when there was always a lingering thought in your mind that if you hadn’t stepped aside at that one moment -

With his head bowed and thoughts far away, Stiles didn’t notice as a man stepped out of the tree line ahead and straight into Stiles path. Before either could react Stiles bumped straight into the guy, falling onto his ass in the process and then looking up to find a very tall, dark and brooding man glaring right at him.

“You should be more careful,” TDB growled, voice low and edged with warning, “Your reflexes and attention span are terrible.”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Stiles replied angrily as he stood, brushing the dirt of his jeans a little too forcefully. “I was going to say sorry for walking into you, but you know what? Forget it.”

Decidedly done with TDB, Stiles moved to walk away when the man’s arm shot out and grabbed him. Hard.

“How much you pay attention can mean the difference between life and death,” TDB said seriously. “Take some advice from a stranger and watch your steps before they become your last.”

Stiles heart rate picked up and fear spiked through his system as the words sunk in. Did this man mean to harm him? The weight in Stiles pocket almost soothed the fear, but then he remembered this man seemed very much human. Could Stiles use his powers against a human if his life depended upon it?

“Is that a threat?” Stiles eventually choked out, hand moving towards his concealed pen. The man grunted and let him go, leaving Stiles to narrowly avoid falling again.

“No, just a helpful hint,” TDB murmured, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and walking back off into the forest. Stiles stared after him, unsure what to make of the encounter. There were weirdos in every town, but man did Beacon Hills have the worst.

Annoyed, dirty and ready to get back to searching, Stiles turned to try and find his bearings. He’d followed a road thankfully, and while there were trees to his back he found himself straight across from the local cemetery. Stiles let his gaze wander over the tombstones inside slowly, feeling his breath catch in the back of his throat. His mother was in there.

Before a panic attack could set in, a boy slipped through the cemetery gates with a broom to sweep the drive. His hair was light and curly, his face delicate and painfully beautiful. Stiles stood still, the air around him feeling charged with sudden anticipation.

As if sensing the change in the air, the boy across the road looked up and caught Stiles eye. The effect was instantaneous; Stiles temperature jumped, sweat beginning to slide down his face and neck in rivets. His vision tinged red, and across the road the beautiful boy was surrounded by flames that made him look almost ethereal.

The experience lasted only a second, long enough for the boy to look away again, but just like Deaton had said Stiles suddenly knew.

Turning away again and flipping open the communicator hidden inside of watch, Stiles hit the dial button and waited until Scott murmured a sleepy “Hello?” from the small speaker.

“Get Deaton and come to the Beacon Hills cemetery,” Stiles said, wondering if the boy surrounded by flames could hear him. “I think I found one of the people we’re looking for.”

Scott grunted in agreement and said they’d be there in five minutes, and promptly hung up on Stiles without saying goodbye. Stiles looked back at the boy who was now sweeping and subtly trying to avoid staring across the street at him.

“Sorry I’m about to ruin your life kid,” Stiles whispered under his breath, then steeled his arms and walked across the road.


End file.
